Beautiful Mystery
by ShiroMoon
Summary: “You’re a mystery.” I whispered my voice barely audible. “But I’ll be damned if I said you weren’t a beautiful one.” GrimmUlqui possible OOC-ness.


_Beautiful Mystery_

He was everything I was not.

Ulquiorra was graceful, elegant, and he had a sense of nobility that I never could or would have. Perhaps that was why he ignored me; maybe I wasn't good enough for him? But maybe it wasn't just me.

He treated others like that, like they were lower than him, like they were trash, unworthy of standing beside him.

And it was unlike me to want to be the one to stand beside him.

And I hated him for making me like this, for changing me when he himself couldn't careless for me.

He captivated me; he made me want to be different until, maybe just maybe he would consider me worthy of standing next to him.

I hated him for that, but at the same time, I could never remain angry at him, because the instant his green gaze found mine, even for a second, I was left breathless, I hated it, I was weak, that must be it.

He's a fucking mystery; I can never read him, I can never understand him, ever. We are both so different, too different, to ever be able to understand each other, and we'll never work. I just have to accept it.

He's there again. In the hallway, just watching the rain fall outside the window, the sky is clouded, the hallways darkened, his pale skin seems to glow in the slightly darkened halls. Why does he do that? He stands there, just staring out the window whenever it rains, like he's inspired by it, saddened by it. I'll pick the latter.

He looks my way for a brief second, his eyes close and looks outside again. Say my name, acknowledge my presence at least, dammit!

But he doesn't. He never does, he knows my name perfectly well and he'll never say it. He's too good for even that, isn't he?

So I decide to make the first move. I ask him a simply question, something he could at least answer.

"What are you doing?"

His beautiful green gaze flicks my way and he replies. "None of your concern." That angered me to some extent. But his gaze is still on me, and I am unable to think over the loud pounding of my heart. He spoke to me for the first time, I should be happy, but I can't be, it seems that he is determined to avoid a discussion.

I am determined to get one.

"Is it?" I ask, tilting my head and shoving my hands into my pockets, looking out the window as well.

"You keep doing that; people would think your upset." I glance at him, searching his expressionless face. He continues to stare out the window, his pale hands in his pockets, his green eyes closed.

Why should I care if he doesn't respond?

Why should I care if he thinks I'm trash?

I don't know…I can't help but care very much about what he thinks of me and normally I don't give a damn about what others think of me. But with him, it matters, with him it hurts when he thinks badly of me. And I hate him for it.

It is raining again. He is not in the hallway, this time he is outside in the downpour, I found him there, just standing in the yard outside the school, staring up at the sky. His hands are in his pockets, his green eyes fixed up at the sky; rain is running down his face and with his saddened eyes, it appeared he was crying. But he wasn't. He noticed me and again turned away, staring at the sky. "Why do you do this?"

He glances at me and then he closes his eyes and replies. "It doesn't matter." And he makes to leave, I grab his shoulder. "Tell me." My voice was a growl but I didn't intend to threaten him. I was almost getting used to his silence. He stares at me impassively and says. "It is really none of your business." And I fight off the urge to smack him.

"Fine! But if you're going to stand in the rain at least stay dry. No doubt since you sit right next to me in class our teacher will ask me to look after you when you get sick. So, don't get sick, I have other things to do rather than care for you and your sorry ass."

I pull an umbrella out of my bag and open it above his head, trying to appear slightly unconcerned. He looks up at the blue umbrella I now have above the both of us and he says, without looking at me. "Thank you."

I'd rather not admit this to him, but I was happy just to hear those words.

We met again, as usual, out of mere coincidence.

That was how it always went for us.

He walked ahead, hands in his pockets, his raven locks sway in the wind and he walks with an undying grace. He staggers ahead and leans against the tree. He has stopped, I watch him as he pushes himself from the tree and limps ahead. The new limp in his step catches my attention immediately.

I walk up to him, he is wet, as usual, from the rain, and he is shivering violently. I stare at him and say. "What's up with you?"

He shakes his head slowly, apparently not wanting to respond.

My blue eyes narrow and I sigh. I walked right next to him and slip my arm around his waist, supporting him. My eyes close. He looks at me questioningly. "Let go. I can walk fine." I ignore him and start walking. "You live around here?"

"Near the end of the street."

His house is small, not nearly big enough for a whole family to live in. Maybe only two people could live in it. I reached out to ring the doorbell but he puts his hand over the doorbell. "No need." He says, almost through clenched teeth.

He pulls out a small set of house keys and opens the door.

The inside of his house is small, there is only one set of stairs and they lead up to the single bathroom and bedroom. The living room is small too; the kitchen is to the left of the living room. No one else lives here. Except him.

He removes himself from me as quickly as possible, and I feel a stab of annoyance. It must hurt his damn pride to even allow me to help him. Why does he treat me that way? Like I am insignificant?

Or is he afraid of close contact with another?

The storm rages outside as he seats himself on the couch to remove his shoe. I watch him from where I lie against the back of the couch. He removes his sock and I can clearly see bruises on his ankle. He has sprained it. I glare at him. "So you were going to tell me, when?" I growl, knowing that he never was going to tell me.

"Why should you care?" he asks, leaning against the back of the couch. Two of his pale fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, as if in concentration. Those words infuriated me, I didn't even know why.

Wait, maybe I did.

"Yeah, you know what, your right! I shouldn't have even bothered with you in the first place, dammit! You act like your better than everyone else, you won't even freaking look at me, you never give anyone a full answer, you act weird… just what happened to you? Why do you treat people like this? Why…do you treat me like this? It's pissing me off, damn you!"

And his next words surprised me.

"I…I don't know." And I could tell he meant it. His emerald eyes stared into his lap and he sighed before closing his eyes. "Maybe because…I'm different." I look at him and see that his eyes stare far off into the distance, as if he is remembering something. I stare at him and my mind starts coming up with all kinds of possibilities about his past. Was he abused? Abandoned? Was he taunted as a child by other kids, did one of those three possibilities link to the rain? Something had to link to the rain. Something sad.

"You're a damn mystery." I murmured, my voice soft and quiet, my arms were folded across my chest. He glanced over at me and our eyes met for a minute, but I hastily looked away, knowing that if I stared too long at him, I wouldn't be able to look away. I would get softer than I already was. I'd fall for him more. I hated him for making me like that.

But was that really true?

Did I really hate him, could I really hate him?

"See ya." I said dryly. I straightened up and headed towards the door.

"Hang on." I didn't stop. I kept walking. "What, is that sprained ankle going to make it impossible for you to survive?" I asked him mockingly, not looking at him.

"You're going to get drenched if you leave now."

"Why the hell should I care?"

I reach for the doorknob. "I…I want you to stay, Grimmjow."

And I freeze, my teal eyes widen and my hand falls against my side. My heart is beating fast in my chest and I just stand in the doorway, unable to move, a feeling of happiness is inside me. I'm a fool.

But I do not leave; instead I walk back over to the couch and stare at him. He's looking at me in an odd way, not in a distasteful way or in a way that suggests I am worthless, but in a sort of warm way. I cannot understand him. He's a mystery, one that probably will remain unsolved for a while. He gently pats the couch and I sit down, watching him all the while.

As he falls asleep beside me, hummed by the soft pattering of rain, I watch him, how his body seems to relax, all signs of tension vanish. I slowly reach out and hesitantly place my hand on his, entwining our fingers, he doesn't move. I really am going soft. Damn it.

"You're a mystery." I whispered my voice barely audible. "But I'll be damned if I said you weren't a beautiful one."

* * *

This was a assignment given to me by my writing class teacher. He wanted me to write something about 'obsessive love'. So, here it is. And off course, it is GrimmUlqui.

I hope you enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it. It's different from my normal style of writing, not that this style isn't normal, but I enjoyed writing in this new style.

Happy early Valntines Day...very early Valentines Day.


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